


shall we?

by places_we_wont_walk



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Dancing, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, SnowBaz, carry on, ella fitzgerald!!! because i love her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/places_we_wont_walk/pseuds/places_we_wont_walk
Summary: Watford's annual Equinox Ball is approaching, and Simon Snow can't dance. Luckily, he's got a well-bred vampire roommate who Simon...convinces to teach him, because obviously asking his girlfriend to teach him to dance would be WAY too embarrassing.Inspired by this snippet from Fangirl:Baz. "Have you ever done this before?"Simon. "Yes. No.""Yes or no?""Yes. Not like this."Baz. "Not with a boy?"Simon. "Not when I really wanted it."- from "Shall We?" posted April 2010 by FanFixx.net author Magicath





	1. these foolish things

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is for the carry on countdown 2018! the prompt was "dancing." i've got the first two chapters ready to go now, and will finish with the rest asap. enjoy!

**Simon**

I take another deep breath. My magic is filling the room with invisible smoke and I know it’s a matter of seconds before Baz snaps at me to calm down, so I have to do this now. Christ, this is going to be humiliating. I turn around.

Baz is already swiveled towards me in his chair, one eyebrow raised. I jump, then internally curse myself. “Baz.”

That elegant fucking eyebrow somehow rises even further. “Snow. Are you trying to suffocate me?”

I must be really nervous, because I can’t even bring myself to retaliate. “No, I-uh.” I gulp. “The, uh, Equinox Ball is Saturday…”

The eyebrow shoots back down, bringing his cocky expression with it, but Baz’s eyes are almost wide. I can see his smoky grey irises from here. If I wasn’t ready to burst into flames right now, I might have dwelled on that a bit longer. “And I’m asking Agatha, but I don’t know how to dance, so I was wondering if you could teach me.” I say the last part in one quick breath.

Baz’s mouth thins to a flat line. His eyes aren’t wide anymore. He turns back to his desk. “Asking your enemy to teach you how to avoid crushing your girlfriend’s feet all night. That’s pathetic even for you, Snow,” he says to the wall.

Well, I expected him to say that. But I’m prepared. I take the plastic bag out of my drawer. It was disgusting keeping it in there, but Penny spelled it to keep it preserved. “I found this in the Catacombs,” I begin. Baz turns. “Penny did a spell and proved it’s your fangs that left the holes in the rat’s neck – “ He’s lunging at me before I can finish, but I hold it away. He won’t be able to take it without hurting me and getting thrown out. And besides, “We’re hiding another one so it won’t matter if you take this one!” I shout.

Baz steps back, eyes narrowing. “Are you seriously threatening me with execution if I don’t teach you to dance?”

“Well not with execution, necessarily – “

“You do know what they’ll do to me if you turn me in, don’t you?” he asks coldly.

I know. Of course I know. It sounds pretty terrible when he says it out loud, and Penny said the same thing. But I wouldn’t actually do it. Baz can never know that though.

I walk back to my drawers, carefully putting the rat back inside, keeping my eyes on Baz’s. His are stormy with anger, narrowed almost to slits. “Why me, Snow? Why not Wellbelove or Bunce or Merlin knows the hundreds of other mages dying to hold the Chosen One’s hand?”

“No one’s dying to hold my hand,” I retort. It’s true. I’ve only really got two friends. “It’d be embarrassing to ask Agatha, she’s my date. And Penny said no.” And Baz comes from a rich, eloquent family so he probably knows every ballroom dance perfectly. I don’t tell him this, though, his ego doesn’t need it.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Well, if you’re not going to help me, I’m off to the Mage’s office, then.” I make for the door. Baz is in front of me faster than humanly possible. (Well, obviously.) His steely eyes are fixed on mine so intensely that it’s impossible to look away. “You’re an idiot, Snow.” I can feel his breath on my face. I swallow. He holds his gaze and I think he’s going to say fuck the Anathema and attack me right there, but then he hisses “You’ll meet me on top of the West Tower at seven.” And then he’s gone.

**Baz**

I shouldn’t have been so sloppy. But it’s been over a year since he’s followed me around the Catacombs, so I left the drained rats out. Just this one time. I was exhausted, I always am when I finish hunting. But of course blundering Snow somehow noticed his surroundings for once, and now I’m stuck with a whole new form of torment.

I curse myself for the umpteenth time that day for thinking even for a moment that Snow was going to say the impossible. I let him lift me up into the air only to for him to let me crash painfully back down. I’m north of Mummer’s House, by the moat – I was on my way back from football practice – so Snow can’t see me shooting streams of fire at the merwolves. I don’t need the additional humiliation of him seeing me throw a tantrum because I’m upset the person who hates me most didn’t ask me to the Equinox Ball.

I don’t know how I’m going to live through this, nearly a week of Snow holding my hand and tripping over my feet while I pretend I’d still readily slaughter him. It’s exhausting enough to keep up that act when we spend our time skirting around each other without saying a word.

A merwolf snaps too close to my ankle, and I sneer before blasting it back into the water with another line of flame. It doesn’t usually cost much magic, but I’ve been pacing and shooting fire for so long that I have to slump against a lamppost. I dig my watch out of my football duffel. 6:46. I should be getting up to the West Tower by now. I think for a moment about not going, about leaving Snow waiting up there all night like I did sixth year. But that would end in me getting my fangs pulled out in front of the Coven. So I make my way to the gates and try to will myself to not imagine his rough hand in mine, his breath too close to my face…

Merlin help me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this coulda been a one shot but i'm a mess and couldn't finish in time!! so chaptered fic it is (for now - might edit it into one long thing later). i'd rather have a good fic that i take time to complete than a rushed one, so. yup


	2. bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'll sing to him, each spring to him  
> and long for the day when i'll cling to him  
> bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am i

**Simon**

I’m early to meet Baz. There’s an evening breeze picking up and it ruffles my hair, just cool enough to be refreshing now, but it’s not close enough to summer for it to stay that way past sunset. I wonder if Baz is messing with me again, if he’s going to leave me out to freeze after they lock all the doors at night.

I’m pacing now, and I rake my hand through my hair to try and get it to stay in place. I showered before this, earlier than usual, because if I didn’t Baz would just make fun of me for looking a mess. I used some of his conditioner, too. I really hope he doesn’t notice. Which is stupid, really, seeing as he’s a fucking vampire.

A couple of first years stare as I walk past them, before gathering up their books and scurrying away. They’re probably scared that I’ll go off or something. I ignore them.

I turn around, ready to give up and head back inside when I see him striding across the stone rooftop. All the remaining students studying on the nearby benches make for the door, not wanting to get caught in one of Baz and I’s fights.

The fading sunlight is shining gold on Baz’s skin, driving away any trace of grey. “Decided to give up before we’ve started, Snow?” He’d seen me turn to leave. “Thank Crowley.”

I grit my teeth. “Not a chance.”

“Pity.” He’s right in front of me now, and he looks down on me. I try to think of a non-humiliating way to stand on my tiptoes.

“Well,” he says briskly, “We’d better get this over with.” Baz pulls out a silver iPhone.

“You – you’re not allowed to have that!”

“I’m already helping you against my will, Snow, let me be.”

I huff. “Fine.”

Baz taps the phone with his wand, muttering “ **Hear ye, hear ye** ” and pressing play. He sets it on the ground as something slow starts to play, with violins and saxophones and a soft piano. It sounds like forties jazz.

“Christ, Baz, what is this? Couldn’t you choose something less, I don’t know, romantic?”

“It’s Ella Fitzgerald. And no, you’re going to a ball, not a nightclub.” He sneers at me. “And I don’t fancy teaching you how to grind.”

“I – what? No, I just – “ I blush.

“Come on, Snow.” Baz pockets his wand and lifts his right palm to me. “You’ll be leading,” he adds, because my arms are still hanging uselessly at my sides.

“I know that.” I frown. “Wait, I – what does that mean again?”

Baz rolls his eyes. He jabs his right hand at me, palm still raised. “Put your hand here.”

“Right.” I put my right hand in his like I’m going in for a handshake. Baz pulls his hand away and pushes it into his hair, exasperated.

“Fucking hell, Snow, you’re impossible.”

I jut out my chin. “I just did what you asked me to do!”

“Other hand, Snow,” he says, lifting his palm again.

“Oh.” I put my left hand gingerly on his. My palms are sweating by now. I pray he doesn’t notice.

Baz then puts his other hand on my forearm, and I jump for the second time that day. Dammit. He raises an eyebrow, but just says “Now put your right hand on my back.” I do as he says, and I feel his shoulder blade move under my fingers as he straightens up.

Baz’s hand tightens around mine ever so slightly, and he pulls me in by a few inches.

“Now, we move.”

“Wait – huh?!” I manage to stammer, before Baz is pulling me to the right. I stumble, falling out of his grasp. “I thought I was supposed to lead!”

“You just said five minutes ago that you didn’t know what that meant.”

“Whatever,” I growl, taking him between my arms again. Baz flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “Again.”

He blows out an exasperated stream of air, and I feel it flutter the hair on my forehead. “Follow me,” he murmurs, tugging me back in again. Baz closes his eyes, nodding slightly to the faint tinny sounds of the cymbal brush before pulling me to the right, gentler this time. “Now…back, left, forward, and again.” His voice is quiet, slow, so much smoother than the curt tone he usually uses to snap at me.

After a few minutes, I stop tripping over my feet. The pattern we’re tracing isn’t actually too complicated, it’s mostly just walking in the shape of a box. Now that I don’t have to focus so hard on not bringing both of us down onto the stone ground, I let my mind wander off, tethered only to the present by the cool evening air pulling through my hair and Baz’s low voice still chanting instructions as we move. I chance a look at him. He’s got his eyes trained to our feet, but the hard expression he usually wears is gone, like he’s forgotten that he’s here, being forced to dance in the arms of his enemy.

After what seems like forever of me just watching him, Baz stops murmuring instructions and slowly brings his eyes to mine. I tense, tightening the hand on him (that has traveled too close to his hip), and wait for the snarky comment. But Baz just keeps staring at me as we sway, never shifting his gaze from mine, and it leaves me vaguely wondering if he’s trying to vampire-hypnotize me.

I really don’t know what the fuck to do in this situation, where the real Baz has been replaced by a version of himself that murmurs to me and dances with me and looks me in the eyes and glows in the evening sun, so I offer up a tentative smile.

I nearly fall on my ass when Baz lets his lips curl in response.

**Baz**

Snow doesn’t think I’ve noticed that he’s used my conditioner.

I’m being soft with him, I know I am. I spent years trying to remain impassive behind my carefully constructed walls and I’m letting them all dissolve because Simon Snow is holding my hand.

He’s seemed to have forgotten where he is, seeing as he’s smiling like an idiot as we dance under the gradually appearing stars. Whatever the reason for that is, it unfortunately makes it a lot easier to pretend that this is real, like dancing on a rooftop to forties jazz is just something we do. I find myself smiling at the thought before I can stop it, and that’s when I notice the wide-eyed Simon Snow in my arms.

I drop his hands and he stumbles as I try to school my face back to normal. He’s still gaping at me, and he looks vaguely pissed that I’ve suddenly broken our little spell.

“Well, I’m impressed, you managed not to kill us both on your first try,” I say, trying desperately to act like I hadn’t just been gazing into his too blue eyes for far too long. “You’ll meet me back here tomorrow after dinner.” Then I’m striding away before he can work up a full-on bluster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're both a mess :,)  
> please stay tuned for the next chapter!


End file.
